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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26314201">Lyrium Burn</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tidescrest_Rogue/pseuds/Tidescrest_Rogue'>Tidescrest_Rogue</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Flirting, Hurt/Comfort, Lyrium Withdrawal, Nightmares, One Shot, Romantic Fluff, Slow Burn</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 11:01:36</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,065</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26314201</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tidescrest_Rogue/pseuds/Tidescrest_Rogue</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Cullen is going through the withdrawals, and then there is that chess scene. Shameless flirting and nightmares.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Cullen Rutherford/Female Trevelyan, Cullen Rutherford/Original Female Character(s), Female Inquisitor/Cullen Rutherford</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>32</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Lyrium Burn</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Cullen shuddered and sat up in bed with a start, looking around wildly. It was another dream, addled by the absence of lyrium and just as bad as the others, if not worse. Lately a new figure had been present in his nightmares; a woman, with dark hair and violet eyes. He could never make out the rest of her features, but the tortures he watched her go through on a nightly basis always made him rise with the taste of bile in his mouth.</p>
<p>Cullen had a suspicion he knew who the woman was, and it made him physically shudder again at the implications. “Don’t be a fool…” He muttered to himself, standing and getting dressed in the same mindless manner he did every morning. First he washed his face with ice cold water to shake the sleep from his skin, leaving it taught and cold. Then he lightly trimmed the scruff of a ‘beard’ he wore – though Varric commented on more than occasion that he looked like a scrub brush with his small, wiry hairs.</p>
<p>Then came the armor, first the under layer of breeches and a simple shirt of poor quality fabric. They always ended up stained with sweat at the end of the day, so their texture didn’t bother him. Then the padding and armor itself, the boots, the bracers, a waistcoat, the gauntlets and arm guards. Finally the breastplate and the maroon and gold trimmed cloak, with the black and red fur pauldrons everyone associated with the Commander of the Inquisition’s armed forces. Cullen never felt fully dressed without his armor and cloak on, even if he was rarely physically involved in battle, it felt the most comfortable. Decades of Templar training made him that way – strict to the rules, always willing to trust physically force over subtle action (which explained the constant arguments he and Leliana had over the war table during meetings) and steadfast that his troops were taken care of. The last to bed and the first to rise, always working, barely resting.</p>
<p>Full dress, Cullen ran a now gloved hand through his hair and inspected his armor in the sunlight before making his way down the ladder to his office. Without fail, the minute he walked over to his desk there was a knock.</p>
<p>“Enter!” He called and several runners and assistants came in to await their daily orders. “Where are we with the Avaar situation?”</p>
<p>“The chieftain and his people are being escorted to Tevinter as per your orders Commander. The Inquisitor requested we send two extra scouts to ensure they don’t attempt any funny business with our soldiers.</p>
<p>Cullen nodded, an idea he wished he had in the first place. “Good, and the resources of the Mire?”</p>
<p>“Being collected by Head Scout Harding and her men, they are expected to return in two days’ time. “Another scout reported, setting the paperwork into Cullen’s outstretched hand.</p>
<p>“Good, ensure they have a clear path home.”</p>
<p>“Ser!” The scout clapped his arm to his chest and bowed his head in recognition of his dismissal.</p>
<p>This was the routine every morning, he woke, he dressed and he went right to work for over two hours before he would finally dismiss his men for an opportunity to get himself some food, which generally turned out to be nothing more than some bread and a bit of tea. He kept a simple diet, always needing to be able to eat quickly and return to work. His only real meal was usually the evening supper. Cullen always insisted they all eat the same supper within the Inquisition, so that no one felt as though they were being treated any differently. Except for the Inquisitor, he stated on several occasional that she needed to always be well fed to ensure she was ready for whatever task she may be dealt.</p>
<p>After the ninth or tenth report he read that morning (he couldn’t quite keep track anymore), Cullen stood and walked out of his office, crossing the battlements for some fresh air.</p>
<p>“Commander.” The voice caught him in his tracks and he turned to see the Inquisitor with her violet eyes watching him curiously.</p>
<p>“Lady Trevelyan – I mean Inquisitor…good morning.” Cullen stammered a little before clearing his throat. “How are you finding the new recruits?”</p>
<p>“They are doing well, I am impressed how quickly you have molded them into excellent forces.” The Inquisitor smiled. “And please, call me Rowan when it’s just the two of us.”</p>
<p>Cullen looked around the battlement; only to just realize they were both alone, a rarity in Skyhold. “Yes, My La—Rowan.”</p>
<p>“May I call you Cullen?” She asked, her eyes lit up, that same violet shade that faded to black in his nightmares.</p>
<p>“Y-yes…I’d like that.” The Commander gave her a polite nod, shaking away the memory of the previous night’s torment. She looked different without blood seeping from her soft, rose colored lips. Lips he imagined felt like pillows and tasted sweeter than strawberries.</p>
<p>“You didn’t sleep well last night?” Rowan noted, observing his face with some concern.</p>
<p>“I-yes…” Cullen nodded slowly, looking away from her eyes as another image of her face, no longer shadowed in black, and appeared with eyes white in death. Cullen put a hand to his face as he tried to push out his desire and the nightmare as one.</p>
<p>“Bad dreams?” She asked softly, leaning back against the battlement wall.</p>
<p>“They always are. Without lyrium they are worse.” Cullen closed his eyes with a sigh before finally lowering his hand and looking at her again. “Was there something you needed from me My Lady?”</p>
<p>Rowan’s face furrowed into disappointment, he always reverted to formal speak when nervous.</p>
<p>“I wanted to ask if you would enjoy a game of chess later. I have been studying quite a bit. I’d like to test what I have learned.” Rowan gave him a little smile that had some mischief to it.</p>
<p>“I would like that.” The Commander said slowly, then gave a weak smile. “Tonight then? I’ll meet you in the courtyard.”</p>
<p>“Sounds perfect.” The Inquisitor nodded and gave him another smile, this one of excitement. He wanted to crush his lips against her and take the smile as his own so no other could see it.</p>
<p>“At dusk then.” Cullen said, nodded himself a dismissal.</p>
<p>--------------------------------------------------------------</p>
<p>The Commander found himself counting down until dusk and meeting with the Inqui—“Rowan…her name is Rowan.” He chided himself silently. Makers breath even in his thoughts he couldn’t bring himself to use her name. He felt unworthy of it, she was nobility now. No, not now, even before she was taken to the Circle at Ostwick she was of noble blood. And he was a peasant turned Templar. Now ex-Templar…after losing his faith in his Knight-Commander and the Order as a whole. Not to say he was now atheist – No, Cullen was a devout Andrastian and still pledged himself to a daily prayer, though it had been a while since he actually used the Chant of Light for personal reasons; always putting the Inquisition before himself.</p>
<p>Ten minutes to sundown Cullen stood hunched over his desk and held up a gloved hand for silence. The hush fell quickly amongst his messengers, he never had to verbally as for silence from his men, they were well disciplined.</p>
<p>“Go about your business for the rest of the day. Only matters of emergency need be reported, the rest can wait until tomorrow.” He straightened, letting his hands remain on the desk top that was covered in scattered pages and a map half the size of the one in the War Room. “That will be all.”</p>
<p>“Ser!” They all replied, clapping their fists to their chests with an echoing thud before leaving the room. Cullen waited for the full silence of their absence before rubbing the weariness of the day from his face.  He gave himself another two minute interlude to ready himself before he made his way to the castle gardens. Rowan was already there when he arrived, Dorian sitting in the place meant for him.</p>
<p>“Ah, here is our dear Commander. We thought you’d never come.” Dorian smirked from his seat, then stood to wink at Cullen. “Rowan dear, I believe you have bested me this round. I’ll challenge you again once I know you can beat the Commander.”</p>
<p>Cullen looked at the chess board awkwardly as Dorian used an endearment for the Inquisitor. He hadn’t realized they were so close. Dorian walked past him with another wink and muttered something in Tevene that he was able to loosely translate as ‘good luck lover boy’. Cullen’s cheeks flushed and he rubbed the back of his head awkwardly. “I’m sorry Inqu—Rowan. Am I late?” He asked, sitting down in Dorian’s still warm seat and relaxing into the cushion, it was miles better than his own desk chair.</p>
<p>“Not at all,” Rowan said, adjusting in her seat and smiling. “I’m just early, Dorian was teaching me a few strategies.” She looked a bit smug. “I even managed to beat him.”</p>
<p>Cullen shifted with a chuckle, then noticed something uncomfortable under the cushion and pulled it out, revealing a few pieces from the board. “Actually…” He set them back on the tiles where he suspected they should have been and chuckled again. “I’m afraid Dorian let you win Rowan. He was cheating and still lost.”</p>
<p>“What?!” Rowan stared at the chess board in surprise and turned her head to look at the castle walls suspiciously, as if she were glaring at Dorian. “Pavus…that little…nug!” She said with an exasperated sigh. “I was so sure I was winning properly.”</p>
<p>Cullen gave her a gentle smile, “Don’t worry, you could have won properly with just a few more moves.” He encouraged, resetting the pieces for a new game. “Have you been out here long?”</p>
<p>“All day.” She said easily, fixing her own pieces back into place. “I want to actually be a challenge and not get trounced by your superior skills.”</p>
<p>“Oh my skills? I’ll have you know once I was just as awful at chess.”</p>
<p>Rowan laughed, “I’m awful? I’ll make you eat those words Commander.”</p>
<p>Cullen spluttered, “Oh no, that’s what I meant. I-I’m …forgive me.” He finished, rubbing the back of his head once again. “My sister used to best me on a daily basis. My brother and I practiced for weeks. Her face when I finally defeated her was amazing.” He looked at the board thoughtfully, then made his first move.</p>
<p>“So even the Commander of the Inquisition had a weakness…” She muttered to herself.</p>
<p>Cullen shook his head, still amused. “No, I still have weaknesses. I just try to keep them out of public knowledge.”</p>
<p>“As would anyone, I do the same.”</p>
<p>“What’s one of yours?” Cullen asked before he could stop himself. His hand hesitated as he moved to place her into check after only a few exchanges. Why did he try to ask her something so personal so quickly?</p>
<p>Rowan however, did not seem offended by the question and it instead seemed to ponder her answer. “A cage.” She said so quietly he had to ask her to repeat it. “Confinement, not like it was in the Circle. I was able to walk around the holdings of the tower, but I hate tight spaces, areas that you can’t get out of easily…” She shivered at the thought and rubbed her arms quickly to warm back up. Cullen finally noticed how she was looking pale from the chill in the air.</p>
<p>“Do you not have a better cloak?” He asked, noting the dip of shame her head made as she shook it. “Here,” Cullen stood and pulled off his own cloak, the fur of the pauldrons looking warm and inviting.</p>
<p>“Oh, no I’m alright I can just conjure a fire.” She said to stop him, but before she could finish protesting the fur was around her neck and she immediately felt warmer. “Ah…thank you.” She closed her eyes in a little smile and tucked her arms into the cloak, burying her face in the fur and inhaling deeply. It smelled of leather, ink and a scent of sweat that was distinctly his. But instead of being unpleasant, she enjoyed it and fought off a giggle. All the while Cullen had his back turned as he built up a fire in the brazier to the side of the gazebo. “Some of the scouts say snow is on the way.” She said softly, admiring the view of his armor without the cloak to cover it. The back of the armor was covered in sword marks, as well as the rest of it. Though it was not as old as his Templar uniform, he obviously took great pride in the care and maintenance of his armaments. Even the marks of previous battle could not mar the craftsmanship.</p>
<p>“Do they? I doubt it, though it is cold. The winter winds haven’t settled in enough for us to expect more than perhaps a bit of rain.” Cullen mused, he sat back down with the fire now roaring beside them and providing warmth.</p>
<p>“Care to bet on that Commander?” She asked smugly.</p>
<p>Cullen chuckled and raised a hand nonchalantly to quell the challenge. “I try to hold on to my commission in case our dear Ambassador drains the treasury to protect our assets.”</p>
<p>Rowan quirked an eyebrow like she didn’t quite believe that. “Varric says you are quite the Wicked Grace player. And poor Josephine would never let the final copper go.” She laughed.</p>
<p>Cullen pinked at the cheeks and shook his head, muttering Varric’s name under his breath. “I’m only good when I’ve had enough to drink. It’s a strategy game, but nothing like chess.”</p>
<p>“So you do like to gamble.” Rowan smirked, resting her hand on her chin as she observed the board for her next move.</p>
<p>“Occasionally…” Cullen finally admitted, watching her actions.</p>
<p>“Well then, I wager there will be snow tonight.”</p>
<p>Cullen looked up, intrigued. “And if you win?”</p>
<p>“I haven’t decided on my prize yet.” She said bemusedly.</p>
<p>“And if I win?” Cullen tilted his brows and smirked a little.</p>
<p>Rowan tapped her foot slowly as she thought about it. “You can ask me five questions, any questions at all and I will answer them truthfully.”</p>
<p>Cullen steeped his fingers together in front of his face, attempting to look thoughtful rather than smug. “Alright Rowan…I’ll agree to that.”</p>
<p>“Good, now check mate.” She grinned, setting down her queen two paces before his king.</p>
<p>“What?” Cullen looked down at the table again, observing the pieces. Sure enough Rowan had him in checkmate without him even noticing that she used a move his sister was precisely known for employing to take down opponents. “Well I’ll be damned…just like Mia.”</p>
<p>“Mia?” Rowan asked curiously, hearing him mutter the name.</p>
<p>“My sister. You got me with the same strategy she used to beat me. It’s been so long I did not even notice.” He laughed, amused by this turn of events.</p>
<p>“Another round?” She asked, still nestled in his cloak. Cullen looked at her, gaze locking on her face as the flames of the fire reflected off it, illuminating the color of her eyes and making it stand out. <em>Like the black face with the same eyes and horns protruding from her head.</em></p>
<p>Cullen started a bit and sat back, putting a hand over his face and taking a shudder filled breath.</p>
<p>“Cullen?” Rowan sat up straighter. “Are you alright?”</p>
<p>“Y-yes.” Cullen rubbed his eyes, holding up his free hand to stop her from reaching across the table. “I’m fine. Just – a lyrium headache is all.” He said shakily, unable to admit he just envisioned her as a desire demon in the flesh.</p>
<p>“Can I get you anything?”</p>
<p>“No, don’t trouble yourself. It will pass in a moment.” Cullen shook his head slowly, eyes still shaded by his hand as he eased the tension away by filtering out the firelight.</p>
<p>Rowan waited patiently for him to relax again, her hands clutching at the material of his cloak as she waited with concerned eyes. It was several minutes before he was able to finally sit up straight and lower his hand back to his chin. “Better?”</p>
<p>Cullen nodded. “Yes, they come and go. It’s alright.” He gave her a light smile. “Shall we start another game?”</p>
<p>She nodded in agreement and reset the board. “You had me worried there.”</p>
<p>“It’s nothing, it’s a side effect of the withdrawals. I can handle it.” Cullen made his opening move. “You know, it occurs to me that this is the longest we have gone without discussing the Inquisition. It’s rather nice.”</p>
<p>“We should spend more time together.” Rowan suggested with a sweet smile.</p>
<p>“I’d like that.” Cullen agreed.</p>
<p>“Me too!” She confirmed excitedly, eyes dancing before she looked at the board again.</p>
<p>Cullen paused, a small grin spreading across his lips. “You said that.” He answered softly, watching her lips and wishing he could reach across with a bare hand and touch them, confirm they were as soft as he imagined.</p>
<p>Rowan heard him and lifted her eyes shyly, “It’s your move Commander.” She whispered.</p>
<p>“Indeed.” Cullen touched a piece and returned to the game, his eyes still occasionally locking onto her to observe her in his cloak. Maker she was beautiful, with her violet eyes and chestnut hair that curled slightly at the ends. He recalled seeing an image of Andraste when she was a young bride and thought of her as the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, but Rowan…her beauty even surpassed Andraste in the Commanders eyes.</p>
<p>“Cullen.”</p>
<p>“Hm?”</p>
<p>“You’re staring again.” Rowan said gently, but not chiding.</p>
<p>“I-oh forgive me, it’s just…” He trailed off, unable to finish the sentence and averting his gaze. He was quite good at ending on a cliff hanger. He returned his gaze to the board, avoiding looking at her until he smirked and moved a bishop. “I believe this game is mine.” He sat back in his chair with a content little smile, steepled fingers in front of his mouth.</p>
<p>Rowan assessed the board, noticing she had been trapped for quite some time and conceded to her loss. “Well done.”</p>
<p>“Thank you. Now then, it’s a bit late. I think we should get some dinner and get back to work.” He said, standing slowly. Rowan however was twisting her finger around the end of the cloak again, as though she did not want to give it up.</p>
<p>“It’s quite a cold, there must be a stew on tonight.” She said, averting her gaze to the flames of the brazier.</p>
<p>Cullen chuckled softly, “Yes, it is. A hearty stew is what the soldiers need to be at their peak.” He replied, the smile softening until it was barely there when he realized they were discussing the Inquisition again.</p>
<p>Rowan stood up and looked out at the courtyard as Cullen moved to follow. “Shall we walk to the dining hall together?” She asked, then stopped and looked up as a faint bit of moonlight filtered through a cloud and crossed her features. Cullen inhaled slowly, feeling something hungry pull at his stomach.</p>
<p>
  <em>It was beginning to snow.</em>
</p>
<p>A flake fell and landed on Rowan’s nose and she wrinkled it at the coldness of it. “I believe that I have won our little wager.” She said with a laugh, looking at Cullen and smiling.</p>
<p>“So it would seem.” Cullen agreed, inclining his head to her. “And your prize?”</p>
<p>Rowan looked thoughtful, arms still wrapped in the cloak before she shrugged her shoulders in feigned indecision. “I’ll continue borrowing your cloak for the rest of the evening. Perhaps through tomorrow. I’ll let you know.”</p>
<p>“My cloak? You win a wager and that’s all you want?” He asked, watching as snow slowly gathered on the fur of the pauldrons, giving her shoulders a halo of white.</p>
<p>“Yes, for now.” Rowan gave a teasing smile and walked away, swaying her hips on purpose, knowing he would be watching. “Goodnight Cullen.” She said softly without a glance back.</p>
<p>“Good night…” He replied, dinner all but forgotten.</p>
<p>--------------------------------------------------------------</p>
<p>The nightmares were especially bad that night. The low stores of lyrium in his veins ached and moaned for replenishment and burned him from within. Cullen writhed on his bed in soft agony, moaning for release from the demons spell.</p>
<p>A few times it seemed as though someone was there, watching over him and giving soothing utterances to ease his fears. He always thought it was the voice of Andraste in his dreams, but never dared to believe she had finally come to his side after ten years.</p>
<p>
  <em>“Foolish boy.” The desire demon’s voice rang out, she snapped her fingers and a whip slashed him clean across the face. “There is no Maker. You are abandoned. No Templar is safe from me.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“I will…stay strong…” Cullen spat through grit teeth, wincing at the sting of the whips second strike.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“I will break you Templar.” She cooed, tracing a deep purple nail – no, claw – up his neck and chin. “Even if I need a little leverage…”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Cullen shuddered at her voice, each word dripping with poison, frigid as ice and yet molten hot all the same. His head burned and he could hear the screams of his fellow Templars echoing within the Hold.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“She will die…unless you give yourself to me.” The demon warned, her voice drifting away as she floated towards a black figure lying chained to the ground. Cullen didn’t want to look at it, but the demon lifted a hand and his neck craned from the pull of an invisible leash.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>The figure was a woman, he couldn’t quite see her face in the light, but he could smell blood and rotting flesh. The sensation was enough to make him gag, drool dribbling down his chin. “Though all before me is shadow, Yet shall the Maker be my guide…” He stammered, feeling dizzy and nauseous as his stomach roiled.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“She wanted you Templar, but you wouldn’t give her a second glance.” The demon crooned and pulled a chain to lift the body. Cullen stared in fear, terrified to see the face. But when the demon revealed her from the shadows, he did not recognize her. It was a woman, young, perhaps only a year or two below him. She wore damaged robes of a mage, her eyes a cold and dull purple, with brown ringlets cut in patches by a jagged blade…the demons claws perhaps.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>The woman moaned softly, a hand reached out for him, covered in dark blood. “I-it’s not real…Cullen. It’s not real!” She urged with a hoarse voice. “You have to wake up…please…make the pain stop and wake up!” Her voice made Cullen’s innards freeze down to his bone marrow. He recognized it, but couldn’t clarify where; a vague memory tickled at the far recesses of his mind.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“She will die.” The demon repeated. “Unless you give yourself to me.” A clawed hand reached up, ready to slit the woman’s throat. A name prickled at his lips. The name…what was the name? Cullen drew another breath and shook his head. “We are not your pawns.” We? When did he start to care about a strange woman? And why did she seem so real?</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Now now, that is exactly what you are.” The demon replied, lifting the mage’s head higher to show off her neck. “One…”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Wake up Cullen!” She insisted, blood dripping between her lips. “This dream cannot haunt you.” The claws clutched at her throat and her face started to turn red. “Wake up…” She rasped.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Two…”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“No! Stop it! Don’t kill her!” Cullen plead, eyes widening. Why did the fear of one Mage dying hang so heavily on his conscience? Her name…like a former Queen. A mountain ash-tree…it started with…Cullen couldn’t focus, the sight of the claws begging to pierce her neck paralyzed his voice in his throat.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Three. You are too late Templar…far too late…” The demons claw racked across her throat, shredding skin and gushing a violent river of blood so thick it looked black.</em>
</p>
<p>“NO!” Cullen sat up with a scream, looking around the room and shuddering in bewilderment. He was covered in sweat and shivered uncontrollably. A door banged open below him and a patrolling scout’s voice rang up the tower.</p>
<p>“Commander, are you well?!” The scout, Hugh if his voice was familiar, began to climb.</p>
<p>“I’m alright!” Cullen shouted in a harsher tone than he intended. “Return to your rounds, that is an order!” He managed to get it out before Hugh had even gotten to the third rung of the ladder. He looked up to the top of the ladder where he could faintly see the light of a low burned candle reflected on the broken boards of the roof. After all this time Cullen still had not deemed it necessary to patch his personal skylight.</p>
<p>“Are you sure?” Hugh asked hesitantly, knowing there would be reprimand for ignoring a direct order.</p>
<p>Cullen gasped, exasperated and still trying to control his rapidly beating heart. “I said get back to your post or I will make your life hell!” He snapped, almost daring the boy to utter another breath.</p>
<p>“Yes Ser!” Hugh’s voice replied, jumping off the ladder and moving hastily out the door. Cullen did not breathe again until he heard the door click shut and when he did it came in jagged, unyielding gasps.</p>
<p>His large frame shook with each breath as he began to hyperventilate, a problem he had frequently the first few years after the tortures of Kinloch Hold. No one had ever known and he refused to let such a weakness be open to public knowledge now.</p>
<p>Cullen clutched at his skull as the breaths came shorter and shorter until he couldn’t tell how little air he was getting. He only knew that he had to slow the breathing somehow. His heart palpitated, his mouth was dry and his hands had an uncontrollable tremor.</p>
<p>“<em>Breath Cullen, slowly, through the nose and out the mouth.</em>” He thought, trying to catch himself amongst the harsh reality of his terror. It had been a few short months since he last had a nightmare trigger an anxiety attack this bad; and coupled with the headache and burn of lyrium withdrawal left him aching and spent.</p>
<p>Cullen tried to move to the floor on his knees, but in the process he had a seconds long blackout and hit the floorboards with a thud, unable to right himself as the falling sensation made the onset panic all the worse.</p>
<p>He burned, the flames of agony licking at him in desperate hunger for lyrium. Cullen gasped, still unable to reign in his breath and felt something force him to enact a Holy Smite, a technique he had used to bind the lyrium in unruly mages. However it did not work on himself, instead of stopping the pain, it amplified and Cullen let out another rasped yell as he saw the edges of his world begin to fade to black. He couldn’t control the breathing…not this time.</p>
<p>The last thing the Commander remembered was hearing another voice call his name from below as he fell unconscious. This one sounded familiar…like in a dream. “Rowan…”</p>
<p>--------------------------------------------------------------</p>
<p>Rowan had been pacing in her quarters for most of the night after she had her chess match with Cullen. She had been cheeky and flirtatious, and it was unlike her, but a part of her found it entertaining. She liked the Commander of her armies, and she was only just admitting that to herself.</p>
<p>The fur pauldrons around her shoulders smelled just like him. She took another deep breath of the scent and felt it relax her. She was restless tonight, so much work had to be done to stop Corypheus and she was stuck thinking about everything under the sun that required her attention.</p>
<p>Rowan paced a few more steps before she finally slumped down at her desk and resigned herself to her work. She had spent too much time wasting time rather than utilizing it and wanted to make up for it. The reports took hours to read, first was the final results of the Avaar chief and his tribesmen being banished to southern Tevinter; then there was a request for an archanist by the name of Dagna – who was said by Leliana to be an excellent resource the Inquisition needed. Then there were supply reports, personal requests requiring her approval, regional scouting updates; the list went on.</p>
<p>It was nearly three in the morning when the pounding on her door started her with surprise. “Inquisitor I must speak with you!” An unfamiliar voice called.</p>
<p>Rowan frowned, anytime she did not know a voice she felt suspicious. Though she doubted an assassin could sneak into Skyhold, it was not impossible. She stood from her seat and lifted her staff from where it rested on the crook of her desk, a spot Josephine had said was designed specifically for her.</p>
<p>“Please Your Worship, it is about the Commander! He is not well!” The voice shouted before Rowan quickened her pace, descended the steps and opened her door. A scout, a young man with blonde hair stood there. He looked like he had just run across half of Skyhold by the state of the sweat on his brow.</p>
<p>“What about the Commander?” She asked with authority.</p>
<p>“He was shouting in his sleep and I heard him from the battlements. I went to check on him and he sounded very distressed. He would not allow me to remain in his office for more than a moment…I fear something is wrong, he did not sound in his right mind Your Worship.”</p>
<p>Rowan felt her blood begin to run cold. “Your name?”</p>
<p>“Hugh, My Lady. I work under the Commander every day, I swear to you something is wrong. You must come at once.” Without waiting for a response Hugh turned and ran down the tower stairs to return to Cullen’s office. Rowan did not hesitate and followed after him, leaving the doors to her quarters open in the process.</p>
<p>It felt like forever before they reached the Commander’s tower, Rowan heard a thud and the sound of struggled breathing as she opened the door. Then her body seized up at the impact of an attack – the Holy Smite. The lyrium in her veins locked up and she stumbled back against the door.</p>
<p>“Inquisitor?!” Hugh put an arm out to steady her, but Rowan pushed it away and made for the ladder, her own body protesting with great pain.</p>
<p>“Cullen!” She shouted, climbing the rungs. The gasping noises were fading and when she reached the top of the ladder, her heart nearly stopped. Cullen was on the ground, his clothes ripped as though he had been clawing at his chest and his eyes rolling in the back of his head as he heaved and gasped for air at an alarming rate. “Rowan…”</p>
<p>She faintly heard her name before he went limp on the floorboards. Rowan dashed over and pat his face quickly, “Cullen?? Wake up!” She felt around for a pulse and found it weak, his skin cold and clammy, drenched with sweat. “Go fetch Solas and Dorian immediately!” She shouted over to Hugh, who had just reached the top of the ladder.</p>
<p>“Yes, Your Worship!” Hugh’s head disappeared beneath the gap of the floor as he slid down the ladder, not bothering to step one at a time.</p>
<p>Rowan turned her gaze back to Cullen and ripped the shreds of his shirt off, then placed glowing blue hands onto his chest, healing magic to soothe and sense any damage. She was no medic, but the lack of lyrium in his blood practically screamed at her touch, the power of the Holy Smite still lingering. The light of her hands flickered and then faded immediately with a jolting shock. “Damn it!” Rowan shouted, trying to find his pulse again. It was gone and he wasn’t breathing. “Don’t you die on me you bastard!” She hissed, beginning to pound on his chest to get his heart going again.</p>
<p>“<em>You said you could handle this! You promised me this wouldn’t kill you!”</em> She thought bitterly to herself, fighting the sting of tears at the corner of her eyes as she tried to summon her magic again. The light frizzled and she smacked his chest again with growing frustration and intensity.</p>
<p>“Inquisitor?” Solas called up as he and Dorian hurried up the ladder.</p>
<p>“He’s not breathing and his heart’s stopped!” She shouted, hardly able to stop herself from choking on a frustrated sob. She couldn’t fall apart in front of her friends, they couldn’t know how she felt about Cullen, not yet.</p>
<p>“Step aside, give us space.” Dorian came over wearing only pants and carrying his staff, his hair was a mess and looked less glossy without all of its styling accoutrements. Solas looked like he had climbed out of bed as well, only a thin tunic over his trousers. Dorian set to work straight away, able to bring his magic alive without hesitation and began to examine Cullen. “He needs adrenaline to restart his heart, Solas would-“ He didn’t have to finish before Solas was already placing a swirling green ball of energy against the Commander’s chest.</p>
<p>Rowan watched, unable to move as the two mages worked, her own magic still not responding. Though she was not recognizing it at the moment, her body was still quivering from the Smite. Cullen’s entire body lurched upwards and he gasped, eyes flying open in shock. Rowan opened her arms and was able to pull him into an embrace before he could fall back to the floor. “Shhh, it’s alright. Cullen, you’re alright…just breathe slowly.” She said in more assurance to herself than to Cullen.</p>
<p>Solas was about to say something about needing to examine him further, but Dorian held a finger to his lips and shook his head.</p>
<p>“What…happened?” Cullen wheezed, feeling dizzy and having trouble speaking. His voice was low, like his trachea did not want to cooperate with his vocal cords. He hadn’t realized that his head was resting back on Rowan’s shoulder and she was hushing him.</p>
<p>“Your heart stopped…lyrium burn…I couldn’t help you. My magic failed.” She whispered back, eyes locked shut as she pretended no one else was there.</p>
<p>Cullen made a small noise that sounded like another gasp and his shoulders tensed as he worked to reign in his breath. “Heart stopped…?”</p>
<p>“The lack of lyrium in your system is crippling. This attack would have killed you had the Inquisitor not come to your aid.” Solas’ voice replied. “You have a fever and are very ill. You must rest Commander.”</p>
<p>Cullen tensed again, suddenly remembering how the attack felt and wished he had a bucket to be sick in. Rowan’s soft voice pulled him from his nausea.</p>
<p>“You will be alright.” She sounded exhausted and he finally looked up at her slowly, eyes still in a bit of a daze. She had been crying…why? Her eyes were red and swollen from held back tears. Cullen couldn’t make sense of it…</p>
<p>A fog spread over him and he felt exhausted. He vaguely heard someone say he needed to be carried to the bed. He felt three sets of arms lift him, but he felt as though he was floating before landing on a cool, but damp bed. His sweat still covered parts of the sheets.</p>
<p>“He’s not out of the woods yet. I’ll take the first watch.” Solas said before noticing a certain look from Rowan. “I will give you ten minutes Inquisitor, I need to get a few things. I’ll be back.”</p>
<p>Rowan nodded gratefully and looked to Dorian as he was looking over Cullen. “If his fever can break by morning he will be fine.” He said to no one in particular. Cullen turned his eyes towards him for a moment before giving a nod in thanks. Dorian took that as his cue, “I’ll trade with Solas in the morning. For now I must tell our Nightingale that the dear Commander is out of commission for a few days.”</p>
<p>Cullen was too tired to focus on anything visually and laid there, trying to at least listen to snippets of the conversation. His struggle against sleep was failing though and in a slow blink the room went from being occupied by mages, to only Rowan standing beside his bed. She still had that look in her eyes, a look of sadness. “I’m alright…” He told her gently, practically mumbling.</p>
<p>Rowan gave him a weak smile before sitting down on the bed, running a hand over his hair. “Don’t ever scare me like that again.” She whispered.</p>
<p>Cullen took a deep, slow breath in reply, his eyes dropping from need of sleep. “Forgive me…” His voice trailed off as he could no longer fight the pull and slept. Rowan watched him until she was sure he was breathing properly and kissed his forehead gently. “I can’t lose you.” She whispered so low even he shouldn’t have heard it, but he did, even in dreams.</p>
<p>--------------------------------------------------------------</p>
<p>Just before dawn Cullen had another nightmare. This one left him gasping and he woke in fright, clutching at his chest. His breathing wasn’t giving him air.</p>
<p>“What’s wrong?” Solas’ voice asked, alert and ready to assist.</p>
<p>“C-can’t b-breathe…” Cullen couldn’t say more before the gasping got worse. Solas moved quickly and touched his chest before finding a knife and a hollow reed in his pack. “Hold still, this will hurt.” He told Cullen, using his forearm to keep him lying still. Solas chose a spot between Cullen’s ribs and punctured the skin with the knife before placing the reed in the opening. The sound of escaping air was unmistakable, and as it shot out, Cullen’s chest deflated and he began to breathe on his own again.</p>
<p>“You had air in your chest, it was collapsing your lung.” Solas said, wiping the bit of blood from his hands with a damp rag. “The reed will have to stay in place for a few hours to ensure it doesn’t happen again.”</p>
<p>Cullen didn’t reply, it took several minutes before he was breathing at a subdued pace. His heart was pounding in his ears. He mouthed a thank you to Solas before feeling sleep drag him down again, despite his adrenaline.</p>
<p>“Rest, you fever still has not broken.” Solas said quietly.</p>
<p>Cullen attempted a hum to acknowledge what he said but it didn’t matter, he was already out.</p>
<p>When he awoke again, light was filtering through his collapsed ceiling, and birds were chirping along with the noise of marches along the battlements. Cullen closed his eyes, he didn’t want to wake for duty.</p>
<p>“Sleep Commander, we have no need of you right now.” Dorian’s voice lulled to him. Cullen’s vision went black again.</p>
<p>The third time he woke, it was to the sensation of cool water and a damp cloth on his skin. Though he hadn’t opened his eyes he knew the delicate touch upon his cheek. “Rowan…” He murmured.</p>
<p>“Shh, I’m here.” Her voice came out gently, like a small smile was playing on her lips.</p>
<p>Cullen tried to open his eyes, but they were heavy and he could barely see past his eyelashes. But he did notice the purple of her eyes and how they were framed by dark circles. “Forgive me.”</p>
<p> “Hush, there is nothing to forgive.” She said, removing the clothing and touching his cheek with the back of her knuckles. “How do you feel?”</p>
<p>“Weak…need more sleep…” He replied, voice no higher than a murmur. He realized he was parched and licked his dry lips. “Water…?”</p>
<p>A small cup was held for him, “Slowly.” She encouraged, much like a nurse to a wounded soldier. Cullen drank slow, shallow sips until the entire cup was empty and let his head drop the few inches back onto the pillow. “So tired…”</p>
<p>“You need to rest more, you’ve still got a fever.” Rowan told him, brushing a lock of damp curls from his forehead.</p>
<p>Now that she had mentioned it, Cullen felt hot, almost like a burning from within. “How long-?” His question was cut off by a throbbing in his temple, a headache he hadn’t noticed right away.</p>
<p>“You’ve been out for two days, the fever is making you very ill.” She replied, dampening the cloth and wipe his face again to ease his sweats. “But Solas and Dorian agree the fever is a good sign, you are fighting the infection caused by the lyrium burn.”</p>
<p>Cullen looked at her with wide eyes, suddenly remembering the events of the other night. “The smite…I hurt you didn’t I?” He asked loudly, aggravating both his head and his still dry throat.</p>
<p>“No, not at all.” Rowan put a hand on his chest, preventing him from rising. “You only stunned my magic, no harm done.” She promised, though it was a lie. A Holy Smite always stung and burned a mage, its lingering effects difficult to handle, but she had forced herself to work past it for his sake.</p>
<p>“Lies…” Cullen said quietly, already starting to feel sleep pull at him yet again. “Lyrium burn…the Smite is painful…so sorry…”</p>
<p>“Hush now,” Cool lips pressed against his brow, “It was nothing I couldn’t handle.”</p>
<p>Cullen reached up to touch her face, sleepy whiskey eyes looking at her tenderly as they fought the droop. “Stay…” It was a request, and Rowan felt her heart warm and smiled.</p>
<p>“Of course.” She turned to kiss the palm of Cullen’s hand and wrapped it in her fingers, holding on as he let out a little sigh and faint smile. “You should sleep…”</p>
<p>“The troops?” He murmured.</p>
<p>“Taken care of, Cassandra has…” The rest of what she said went unheard as he dozed off again. The Inquisitor just smiled and continued to watch him. This was one of those rare private moments she would remember forever. “Sleep…”</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>*His prayer is from Trials 1:1-1:16*</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I wrote this literally five years ago, kept it saved in my phone notes then decided to draft and post it here. Hope you enjoy! I don't own any of the characters except my version of the Inquisitor. The rest belongs to Bioware.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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